


fragments

by idaate



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 11,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idaate/pseuds/idaate
Summary: A series of mini fic requests.





	1. goshi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to request specific pairings, characters, or scenarios!

Hoshi likes fitting his hands between Gonta’s fingers. He likes comparing their hands, his fingers barely reaching past the edges of the larger boy’s palms. If it has been anyone else, Hoshi would frown, would scowl - being reminded of his size is something that he doesn’t like. He’s got a reputation to uphold (except not really, since he’s kind of on death row but y’know, it happens), and being constantly made fun of for his height is certainly not going to cut it.

That being said…

Gonta’s figure is protecting, large, perfect. Hoshi doesn’t throw that word around a lot, not when everyone who he’s met has some sort of dirty secret and gritted face that really shouldn’t be trusted. Hoshi didn’t think perfect could be achieved, not for a long time, not in the life he’s lived and _especially_ not in a killing game.

But he didn’t think a killing game could actually happen, despite the fact that he himself had killed more people than he could count on his fingers. So, just like all the negatives in the life seemed to be possible, so did the positives.

Gonta’s large hands close around Hoshi’s, and the larger boy blushes. Hoshi raises an eyebrow. “Why’re you so red?” He mutters. “I’m not embarrassed by this. It’s not like we’re doing anything nasty, you know.”

The entomologist turns an even darker shade of red. “Y-yeah.” He sputters. “It’s just...your hands.”

“Yeah, I’ve got hands.”

“They’re so _small_.”

Normally, Hoshi would’ve been at the throat of anyone who would’ve so much suggested something like that, but he simply quirks an eyebrow. “And your hands are super large.” He notes. “Jesus, I’m nearly half your height, this shouldn’t be a surprise.”

Gonta plays with Hoshi’s fingers, touching the gaps between them and intertwining them with his own. After a few moments, he leans in and places a small kiss on the palm of Hoshi’s hand before withdrawing rapidly. Hoshi’s face heats up at that, but doesn’t say anything - he couldn’t even if he wanted to, simply intaking a sharp breath.

“D-did Gonta go too far?” Gonta whispers, voice trembling. Hoshi shakes his head, and Gonta’s face breaks with such relief that Hoshi really can’t find it in himself to pull away. Dammit, he really likes this, and Gonta leans in again.

After a couple more kisses on his palm, on his fingers, Gonta begins to run his hands through Hoshi’s buzzcut, large hands surprisingly gentle. Hoshi lets him do it, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation idly as the other boy hums a small tune. Gonta’s voice is deep and pleasant, and Hoshi _likes_ that, even if the tune itself is slightly off-key.

That’s alright. Hoshi’s voice isn’t pleasant either, and to his ears, Gonta’s voice is absolutely perfect.


	2. irumatsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

“Hey, Bakamatsu! Pay attention when I’m talking to ya!”

The pianist sighs, looking up from the paper in front of her. She was supposed to be composing a new piece, a collaboration that she had agreed to do with one of her upperclassmen, but school didn’t seem to be on her side. After failing yet another math test, she had attempted to shove the red marked paper deep into her bag before anyone would notice - but as fate should have it, a certain inventor had caught a glimpse of it and yanked it out of her hands, letting out a guffaw and cackling madly, saying that she hadn’t thought that the affectionately named Bakamatsu was actually an idiot.

Kaede...hadn’t appreciated that, but she had appreciated the gesture Iruma had suggested; that the inventor would tutor her.

Or at least, she had at the time, but she hadn’t expected Iruma to (quite literally) kick down her room’s door open fifteen minutes til midnight, blasting ‘ _let’s get down to business to defeat the huns_ ’ on her speakers.

“I am listening!” Kaede lied, balancing her pencil on her lip. “I’m learning a ton.”

Iruma snorted and grabbed the pencil, snapping it half. Akamatsu gasped dramatically and grasped the fragments of the now-broken pencil, heart shattering in a similar sense. “How could you!” She wails. “That was my favorite limited edition ‘Hello Kitty’ pencil! From her Halloween campaign, four years back!”

“Suck it up, sweetheart.” Iruma shrugged.

“She was wearing such a cute witch outfit…” Kaede pouts, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on my studies with such a tragedy fresh in my mind. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to recover from this loss.”

Iruma flicks Kaede’s nose. “Boo hoo, cry me a river. That wasn’t even one of her better Halloween campaign.”

“Well, you obviously don’t have any sort of a taste.” Kaede sniffles, and Iruma breathes through her teeth. She hops off of Kaede’s bed, where she had been sitting beforehand, and marches over to Kaede’s side.

“Mmm, I don’t have any taste?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I meant what I said.” Kaede tries looking Iruma in the eyes but falters, looking away. Iruma smirks and leans in closer, to the point that her breath is smooth on Kaede’s cheek.

“Would you still say I don’t have any taste when I do...this?”

At that, Iruma’s mouth closes over Kaede’s own. Kaede lets out a startled noise. Logically, she knows she should have expected this, she should have known this was coming because this was just the way Iruma was. Some smaller part of her wonders if she should be offended by this, because Iruma’s just a pervert, isn’t she, but no - this kiss is gentle, beautiful, wonderful.

Kaede finds herself enjoying it all too much, actually.

Iruma pulls away first, face slightly flushed and a silly grin on her face. “Oh, shit.” She breathes. “Bakamatsu, you’re a real good kisser.”

“D-do you think?” Despite herself, Kaede giggles, covering her mouth and looking to the side. “I thought we were supposed to be studying.”

“You weren’t even paying attention!”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t, isn’t it?”

Iruma grins and bops Kaede on the nose. "If you ever find yourself missing that pencil too much, give me a call. I can totally cosplay that kitty, if that's what you're into."

Kaede's face flushes an even deeper red than beforehand.


	3. kaigonta

“Uhm, Momota-san--”

Kaito looks up from the book he had be reading. “Oh, hey, Gonta my dude!” He hums. “What is updog!”

Gonta pauses in his tracks. “...pardon?”

“Nevermind.” Kaito backtracks hurriedly. “What do you need?”

“Oh, it’s kind of embarrassing, actually, but…” Gonta laughs guiltily, rubbing the back of his head. “Gonta was wondering if...there are any bug constellations? Gonta should really be more acquainted with that subject, especially since he loves bugs and thinks stars are very beautiful in themselves, but.” He smiles. “Gonta would much rather hear about them from Momota-san’s mouth! He is the expert on these kinds of things, after all.”

“Well.” Kaito closes his book. “I do happen to know of at least one bug constellation.”

Gonta’s eyes quite literally light up, and he grabs a chair, sliding in next to Kaito. “Oh!” He smiles. “If you wouldn’t mind enlightening Gonta on such a subject, he would be most grateful.”

“It’s called ‘Musca’.” Momota continues on, and Gonta practically shrieks in delight. “It means ‘fly’, like the bug, in Latin. Constellations have a habit of being named after Latin things, which I think is mega cool ‘cause Latin is a mega cool language, wouldn’t you agree? And Musca is such a fun word to say.”

“It sounds kind of like mucus.” Gonta notes, and Kaito snorts.

“Oookay, you’re not wrong there.” He wheezes. “I...I. Holy shit, I never really thought about that.” He leans back in his chair, hands dragging down his face. “God. God. I...have missed so many joke opportunities. I could’ve made so many booger jokes. Why didn’t I realize this before.”

Gonta stares for a couple seconds before giggling. “M-Momota-san...are those really the priorities you keep?”

“Well, _duh_!” Momota flings his hands into the air. “What kind of priorities are worth being kept if you can’t have a laugh while doing so? Thank you so, so much, Gonta my dude.” He adds. “Without your enlightenment and amazing viewpoint on the matter, I don’t think I ever would have discovered such a phenomenon on my own.”

“Somehow, I find myself doubting that.” Gonta smiles stiffly, but Kaito waves a hand.

“Anyway, moving on - it’s a pretty small constellation and doesn’t get all that much attention from other people, which honestly kinda sucks because it deserves more attention, you know? I think it’s pretty cute. It was created slash discovered - different people have different opinions on the matter - by this dude named Petrus Plancius. Names with Alliteration are so fun to say, am I right?” He grins.

“Oh, I...suppose?” Gonta scratches his chin. “Gonta only ever usually says a person’s surname, not their full name, so he hasn’t given that all that much thought.”

“Wow, we are just learning a bunch of info from each other today, aren’t we! Expanding each other’s minds.” Momota whistles, and then murmurs, “Gonta Gokuhara.”

Gonta stiffens. “Yes?”

“That’s your name. It’s got alliteration.” Momota clucks his tongue. “Gonta Gokuhara. Fun to say, am I right?”

Gonta blushes and murmurs once again that he’s never thought about it like that before, and Momota continues on with educating the other boy about bug constellations.


	4. shinguji relaxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

It was a long day. Shinguji’s not a person who enjoys hassle - not with his pathetic lack of muscles in a class full of more six packs than he thought possible - and after a workout at the gym that almost had him taking his medical mask off, he found himself more tired than he ever thought possible.

He practically drags himself over to the kitchen counter. There’s already a pot set up - thank God - and Shinguji makes full use of it, pouring just enough water into it for a heftily sized cup of tea before turning it on, letting the water begin to heat up. The sound is almost pleasant, bordering on a tired wheeze of steam being released, and Shinguji pauses, closing his eyes and absorbing it for a moment. It is pleasant, he decides, and places the lid on the pot.

And now, to decide on a tea blend itself. That’s hard enough, he realizes, opening a rather large cupboard and sorting through packet after packet of tea. There’s a huge variety of blends, some that he’s picked out himself, some that were gifted to him. He always plans on sitting down and enjoying a nice, long pleasant taste of the blueberry and camomile blend, but things never really seem to work out the way he plans.

Being a Hope’s Peak student is harder than he thought, he realizes, and he frowns slightly. What with the lack of a requirement to attend classes, you would’ve thought that the workload would be more than easy enough for anyone to handle. Shinguji was a rather organized person himself in the first place, always on top of the next thing and with an unwavering amount of dedication - that’s what all the teachers said, after all. Those were their expectations.

Expectations.

Shinguji bites his lip behind his mask and settles on a simple camomile blend. Now that was done and over with, all he had to do was decide on a mug and he would be all set. Not too tall of an order in the slightest. He could handle it.

He closed the tea blend cupboard and moved on to the mug cupboard. Much like the tea blends, many of the mugs had been gifts. He always felt hesitant about using gifts - what if he dropped a mug, what if it chipped, what if it broke, what if what if what if - but now that he was presented with such a rare opportunity of peace when he felt was all but strangled by responsibilities nowadays, he lept on the opportunity.

The particular mug he chose was from a Secret Santa that his class had performed. He forgot from who exactly it was from, but it was simple, beautiful - they had commissioned the former SHSL Potter and SHSL Calligrapher to collaborate, and they had, writing Shinguji’s name in beautiful gold kanji on a large black mug.

The water is done boiling, and Shinguji begins to pour it inside of the mug. It lets out a satisfying noise, and he breathes.

Now to wait.


	5. tenkomiu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

Tenko can appreciate girls. Of course she can - she’s a girl herself, and even if she wasn’t, she’d be able to appreciate girls all the same. They’re far kinder than nasty, rude boys, who pull at your hair and don’t mind their Ps and Qs and are generally just very, very disgusting. So no, Tenko doesn’t appreciate boys, and yes, she does love girls.

That being said, there are some rather rude girls in her class. Or, more accurately, rude girl. Singular.

Iruma Miu flaunts herself around with an air that Tenko’s almost jealous of, the girl’s white hair sticking up in every which direction but Tenko still found her attractive when they first met. That is, until she opened her mouth.

“Heeey, nice tits!” Iruma had whistled. “The name’s Iruma Miu, your resident Super High-School Level Inventor! You should be honestly honored to be in my presence so, please, count your blessings and thank the good Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, that you’ve had the chance to meet me today.”

Tenko had blinked and retracted her hand. “You lost Tenko at ‘nice tits’.” She said airily, and then refocused her attention on a very cute little redhead magician.

Though all that was done and over with, Iruma still had a habit of forcing her way into Tenko’s life. With flaunted breasts and inappropriate phrases on her lips twenty four seven, it wasn’t hard to dislike the girl. Poor Kiibo had to deal with the inventor’s boobs in his face constantly, and Tenko actually felt bad for someone who wasn’t a girl - but, to be fair, Kiibo himself had stated several times that he wasn’t a boy, so that kind of helped.

At some point, something inside Tenko snapped as Iruma made yet another joke about “you are what you eat” in reference to pussy, and she slammed herself upright. Everyone looked in her direction and normally, yes, she would’ve cared more and been kind of very embarrassed, but at the moment? Iruma needed a talking to.

“Iruma-san!”

“Tenko! My babe!”

“Your jokes have gone too far at this point!” Tenko crosses her arms, frowning. “You need to learn to be politer and to hold more respect to your peers!”

Iruma copies her, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “Sorry!” She says. “I don’t think I can stop being me! Besides, this is coming from a person who regularly flings her male peers across the room if they get too annoying, so, like.”

“At least Tenko doesn’t make inappropriate jokes all the time!” The girl points out, exasperated. “Seriously. Tenko understands that it’s all in good fun, but it gets quite annoying after a while.”

Iruma pauses, scratching her chin. “Hey, I know!” She declares. “Tenko! Why don’t you give me a lesson on how to be more respectful? Like, we go to the movies together or something and you, like, make sure I don’t misbehave.”

Tenko blinks. “Are...you asking Tenko out on a date!”

“No!” Iruma gasps. “No no no no. Tenko, you didn’t strike me as such a romantic!” She giggles. “This is just a lesson! A _learning experience_!”

“Oh.” Tenko scratches the back of her neck. “Uhm, okay. What about Friday night? Tenko can text you the details later.”

“Deal!”

“Deal!”

The both of them sit down, and Tenko suddenly remembers the entire class was witness to their exchange. Ouma whistles from the back of the room, Momota flashes her a thumbs up and mouths ‘good job’, and she turns a bright red.


	6. oumaede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

“Akamatsu-chaaaan!” Ouma drawls, legs sticking straight up as he lays upon the couch. “I’m boooooored! I thought you weren’t a boring person!”

Kaede sighs, turning away from the piano. “Well, I’m sorry that my music isn’t the most entertaining thing even though, I’m, y’know, the Super High-School Level Pianist,” she mutters, “but I need to practice.”

“Mmm, don’t get me wrong, it was super cool at first!” Ouma agrees. “The thing iiiiiis, though, you’ve been playing the same phrase over for an hour!”

“Over that.” Kaede notes, and Ouma groans.

“That’s even worse! And it’s suuuper hot, and I want to spend some time with my beloved Akamatsu-chan but I’m, like...falling asleep here!”

“Then fall asleep. See if I care.”

Ouma flips around and shoves his face into the couch. “Zzzzzzzzzzzz.” He says aloud, and it makes Kaede giggle. “Zzzzzzzz! _Zzzzzzzzzz_!”

“You sound like you’re suffocating.” Kaede notes, and Ouma flips back around, frustrated.

“I am suffocating! I’m being suffocated from my boredom! I could die this way, and if would be all your fault! What would your parents say if they knew that not only were you a murderer, but you murdered your boyfriend, of all people!”

Kaede’s face turns red at the last word, and she clears her throat. “I don’t think they’d be all that upset if you died.”

Ouma looks up. “Aw, really?”

“Yeah. They totally think I can do better than you.”

Ouma snorts and sits back down. “Aw, your parents are bullies. I’m, like, top notch boyfriend material! It’s super hard to top me.” He flexes his puny arms. “Ouma Kokichi, the Super High-School Level Boyfriend! What a wonder!”

Kaede rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Mmm, you make me happy, Akamatsu-chan!”

Her hands fall away from the piano at that comment, and she swallows nervously. “Ah, I think I could be doing a better job of making you happy.” She says offhandedly, and in an instant, Ouma’s in front of her face, slapping her face and frowning deeply.

“Doooon’t say that!” He says. “You’re the absolute best girlfriend anyone could ever have, ever, trademarked™!”

“Ouma-kun, ‘tm’ means trademarked. You don’t need to say it twice.”

“Yeah I do! I have to say it twice to emphasize how much of a best girlfriend you are! And that isn’t a lie,” He adds, an uncharacteristic amount of seriousness in his voice. “I’d never lie about my feelings for Akamatsu-chan, or for anyone else!”

“...right after you confessed to me, you said it was a lie.”

“That was. Uhm.” Ouma sputters, and Kaede savors the rare look of surprise that sits on his face. “Usually people do the confessing to me, so I wasn’t sure how to act, you know?”

“Really?”

“Nope! That was a lie. Or was it?” Ouma boops Kaede’s nose, and she wrinkles it.

“Did a lot of people confess to you?” Kaede hums awkwardly. Ouma stretches.

“Ooooh, yeah! Tons and tons of girls and guys alike, and people who don’t fit into the gender binary too! I’m a super popular person, after all.” Ouma blows on his fingernails. “I even accepted one or two of them. Didn’t work out, of course. Turned out they only wanted to date me ‘cause I’m rich and famous and stuff, and not for actually me, you know?” Ouma sighs almost wistfully. “It kinda sucked to realize, you know?”

“I know.” She does.

Ouma leans in and kisses Kaede’s cheek. “However, that’s definitely not the case with you. I love hanging out with you, Akamatsu-chan.”

“You can call me Kaede, if you want.” She whispers.

“Kaede!” Ouma tests it out in his tongue. “Well, you can call me Kokichi!”

“Kokichi.” Akamatsu smiles.

“That sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth!” Kokichi exclaims, and Kaede giggles.


	7. ouma and saihara go to disney world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

Saihara knew his boyfriend was full of surprises. It kind of came as a given once you knew Ouma for more than sixty seconds, and Saihara had known Ouma for far, far longer than that. Saihara enjoyed all the time he spent with Ouma, that fact was undeniable, but it didn’t change the fact that some of Ouma’s mannerisms surprised him.

One such mannerism was buying tickets to Disney World on impulse and then dragging Saihara there.

The detective wasn’t complaining about the situation - if anything, he enjoyed the concept of hanging out with his boyfriend at an amusement park. He certainly wished that he had more prep time, that was a given, but he wasn’t opposed to going in the first place. Spending time with Ouma was always fun!

Right off the bat, Ouma bought the both of them cotton candy and matching Mickey Mouse hats, giggling when Saihara put his on backwards. They didn’t go on any of the rides immediately, instead opting to walk around the park and enjoy the views. Ouma _insisted_ on taking selfies with every single character that they came across, and got into a rather heated argument with Donald Duck about whether or not ‘Duck’ was Donald Duck’s real last name or not (Saihara tried to keep a neutral ground, but God, it was still amusing to watch).

It takes nearly an hour for them to even get in line for one of the rides, and by that time, Saihara’s legs are already sore. He doesn’t complain about that, though _Ouma_ certainly does. The Super High-School Level Supreme Leader wails, begging Saihara to carry him bridal-style in the line (which just so happened to be Splash Mountain) and though Saihara honestly kind of _wants_ to carry him at this point, he simply just isn’t able.

Ouma’s tears dry up quickly, signifying that they were fake (a relief, since Saihara could never deal with guilt all that well) and the boy quiets down. Saihara pats his head affectionately, thanking him for doing so before walking towards the line. It’s important to get a headstart on the lines, after all - they didn’t have a fastpass, so it was going to be a long wait no matter what, but better make it less long than usual, right?

It probably wasn’t a good idea that they had eaten all that cotton candy before getting on the ride. There was a chance that they would throw up, and wouldn’t _that_ be disgusting? Though Ouma would probably say something silly like ‘oh, the water will wash the vomit away!’ or something along those lines, and Saihara would laugh and call him stupid but he was just _so damn cute._

Despite such thoughts, though, Saihara found himself already hungry for another batch of food. Biting his lip, he considered how much money Ouma had left in his wallet. It could be a lot or a little, and chances were the Supreme Leader wouldn’t give a straight answer if he asked, but it didn’t hurt to try, right?

“Hey, Ouma-kun, how much--”

Ouma isn’t there.

Saihara’s heart stops as he glances around the line, trying to locate the smaller boy. Nope, he wasn’t right behind him, like he had originally thought, and even after stepping out of the line and giving a quick search around he couldn’t see the boy. He nearly has a panic attack right there and then, but no - he can call his boyfriend, right? Ouma would have to answer that way, right?

He quickly dial’s his boyfriend’s number into his phone and holds it up to his ear, letting it ring.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Saihara’s fingers tap against his leg urgently and he looks around, biting his lip.

_“Hello! The person you’re calling currently can’t take your call--”_

Saihara’s heart jumps into his throat and he repockets his phone, already running down the length of the park. “Ouma-kun!” He yells out, getting more than a few glances from other residents of the park. _“Ouma-kun! Where are you?”_

There’s no answer, as fate should have it, and Saihara’s panic triples by the second. He’s probably fine, some calmer part of him reasons, he probably just got bored of waiting in line or he was really upset about not being carried bridal style by Saihara and had decided to scamper off, or wanted food or _something_ but he was _alright, wasn’t he?_

_Wasn’t he?_

“E-excuse me!” Saihara gasps, sprinting over to one of the attendants at the part - short girl with brown hair pulled into a cute bun. “U-uhm, pardon me, but have you seen a small boy with...with purple hair? Or maybe black, if the lighting is right? He’s about, uh, this tall.” Saihara approximates the height with one of his hands. “He’s, uh, really important to me and he got lost and I don’t know if that’s okay or if he’s okay and I’m really, really worried about him and--”

The attendant places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry.” She smiles, and somehow, Saihara finds himself getting relaxed just by hearing her voice. “We’ll find him! That’s what we’re here for.”

“Thank you.” Saihara gasps, and the attendant looks behind him.

“In fact, I think we might’ve found him right now.”

Saihara spins around on his heels and finds himself confronted with an Ouma who was holding two more cotton candies and two vomit bags. “Ah, hey, Saihara-chan!” He hums. “You were talking aloud to yourself about how you were afraid of vomiting, so I decided to go and get some vomit bags and--”

Ouma is cut off as Saihara pulls him in close, arms wrapping around the smaller boy and kissing his forehead. “Oh my God.” Saihara gasps. “I thought you were gone forever. _Never_ disappear on me like that again.”

“Saihara-chan, I can’t breathe!” Ouma whines. “And you ruined the cotton candy! _Totally_ ruined it! And your shirt, too!”

Saihara pulls back and, sure enough, there’s cotton candy down the front of his shirt. “Oh.”

Ouma giggles. “Were you really worried about me? I’m touched! I never thought that you would’ve given two _shits_ about if I was around or not!”

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara bites his lip. “We’re _dating._ I’d be incredibly sad if you were gone.”

“Mmm.” Ouma doesn’t meet his eyes at that statement. “Uhm, well, onto Splash Mountain, I guess?”

“Ah, wait a second--” Saihara leans down and plants a big kiss on Ouma’s lips, causing the smaller boy to let out a startled noise. “There we go. Yeah, onto Splash Mountain.”


	8. himiko and shinguji help toujou clean the classroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

They hadn’t _volunteered_ for the duty, per se. In fact, they hadn’t volunteered for it at all.

Toujou had needed someone to help her clean the classroom, and frankly, no one wanted to help her. The Super High-School Level Maid couldn’t fathom why anyone wouldn’t find the concept of refreshing an entire room appealing as she did, but, well, maybe that’s why she was the maid and not a single other person was.

The rest of her class had drawn straws to see who would get the privilege of joining her because, yes, they admitted that it really did need to be cleaned this time and it wasn’t just another one of Toujou’s impulses. Ouma had pulled some sort of a trick or other, resulting in paint and bento boxes alike being strewn out on the classroom floor in a rather disgusting manner. It definitely needed to be cleaned up, and though normally Toujou could easily handle it all on her own, the weather dictated that the job be finished quickly lest she want to run into a rather unpleasant storm on her way home.

And so the lucky winners had ended up being Himiko and Shinguji. The magician hadn’t really protested much, but Tenko had on her behalf, saying that the Aikido Master should go in and clean up for her instead. But fair was fair, and so it was Himiko who was stuck with the task. Shinguji himself hadn’t seemed to care all that much, bringing a gloved hand to an already mask-covered mouth and muttering that they should just get it over with.

They had worked together rather efficiently, which was surprising considering the fact that Himiko fell asleep almost immediately and Shinguji refused to get in a two foot range of the mess, instead opting to use a rather long broom to clean everything up. Outside, lightning crackled and the rain battered the windows, but Toujou smiled. It was a pleasant experience, overall.

That is, until a particularly loud strike of thunder caused the lights to flicker before turning off completely.

Shinguji let out a noise which was most definitely not a shriek, covering his mouth in embarrassment and clutching his broom tight to his person. Himiko made her way back to reality sleepily, yawning and glancing around the classroom.

“Oh...what happened? Where did everyone go?”

“We stayed behind to clean up the classroom, remember?” Toujou says gently. Himiko pauses, scratching her chin, and then nods.

“Hmm….yeah. You’re right.”

“The lights went out.” Shinguji adds. Himiko frowns at that.

“Oh, that’s...really not good. Can we get out of here and turn the lights back on? Or, uh, the power...whatever.”

“Of course.” Toujou stands up from her position on the floor and dusts her skirt off before making her way to the door. She reaches down and turns the handle--

Only to have it stuck.

She frowns and jiggles it harder, in case it was a mistake, but no, the door is most definitely locked and jammed. Groaning, she turns back to her two companions.

“We’re locked in.”

“What happened?” Shinguji asks, just a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

“I’m...not certain. But it will be alright.” Toujou strides to the back of the room and retrieves some blankets from one of Ouma’s escapades. The Supreme Leader seemed to be really busy, these days. “We can sleep here, and tell each other stories to keep ourselves company. It will be...fun?” She’s uncertain, but Himiko nods.

“Mmm, yeah….this can be nice.”


	9. oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> major ndrv3 spoilers and panic attack tw

It’s an idiot move to jump out in front of Harukawa’s arrow, especially when he’d benefit more from Ouma being dead than not, but somehow, Momota barely feels a spec of regret as the poison sears through his veins like fire. Maki’s frantic, letting out a screech of why would you do that? and Ouma drinks the antidote and whatever, Momota is dying anyways, this is just delaying the inevitable, whatever, whatever, whatever.

It’s not until Maki flees that Ouma waves the still-full antidote in front of Momota’s face. “It was a lie, sorry!” He hums. “You can drink this instead of me! Dying sounds cool, anyway.”

And so Momota doesn’t think, downing the antidote in one go and ignoring the burning feeling of regret that forms like a knot in his stomach. Ouma watches him with an unreadable expression as he does so, and Momota wonders if the smaller boy regrets the decision at all.

“Now that _that_ is all done and over with,” He hums, “I’ve got this, like, extremely cool plan that you need to follow.”

Momota’s fingers twitch around the bottle’s shape, and he forces himself to listen to Ouma’s words as the Supreme Leader explains with sweat dripping down his brow that he’s not the Mastermind, that Gonta died in order to prove exactly how terrible of a person Ouma could be to convince them all that he was the Mastermind, that everything up till now has been full of lie after lie, that he’s, that he’s, that Ouma’s--

Mid rant, Ouma pauses, holding a hand to his head. “Oh my God.” He whispers, and Momota realizes that this is the most genuine he has seen the boy’s expression. “Momota, I’m going to die, and I won’t have accomplished a single good thing.”

He wants to feel sympathy, Momota truly does, but all he can do is stare as Ouma’s frame trembles slightly, breathing accelerating and chest pumping in small bursts as he tries to compose himself. Briefly, Momota wonders if the poison was faster acting than either of them had anticipated and feels a spike of fear at the idea that _Harumaki was going to get executed for killing Ouma and--_

“Hey, are you alright?” Momota frowns, putting his hand underneath Ouma’s chin and pulling the kid’s face to his. “Are you dying now, or--”

Ouma’s eyes are focused on something Momota can’t see, and the astronaut realizes, with a start, that the Supreme Leader is having a panic attack.

The smaller boy’s knees buckle from underneath him and Momota has to catch the boy, brow furrowed in concern as he holds him closer to his chest. “Shit, man.” He breathes, and it scares him a bit to see such a cruel person in such a vulnerable position. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.” Ouma’s entire frame is trembling, and he struggles to grab ahold of himself. “Fine. I’m okay. Fine.”

“Bullshit.” Momota rubs the boy’s back, uncertain of what to do. He crouches down lower to the floor, unable to support Ouma’s weight and Ouma sure as hell can’t support it himself. “Just...breathe, okay? Deep breathes. Try to match me.” As an example, Momota inhales deeply. After a couple seconds of pause, Ouma mimics the motion, and Momota feels a bit of relief course through him.

“Very good!” He smiles softly. “This is only temporary. You’re doing great, okay? Just keep breathing. Can you do that for me?”

Ouma’s trembling has slowed slightly and he nods, eyes still unfocused. They stay like that for several minutes, Momota murmuring quiet words of comfort as Ouma’s trembling stops and his breathing evens out, and despite all the terrible things the Supreme Leader has done, Momota is still relieved to see that he’s alright.

“Feeling better?” He asks, and Ouma nods, standing up on shaky legs.

“Sorry about that, Momota-chan!” Just like that, the mask slides back on like nothing happened, and Momota straightens up. “I toootally fooled you there, didn’t I? Tricked you into thinking I was feeling bad! Like that would ever happen.” Ouma laughs airily, and Momota decides to humor him for a moment.

“Yeah. You got me, little guy.”

The grin on Ouma’s face only widens, and Momota goes on to listen as to how exactly he’s supposed to murder the boy he just comforted.

(he can’t shake the image of ouma’s expression as the press comes down out of his mind)


	10. kirigiri and saihara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

“Ah...Kirigiri-san?”

Saihara finds himself flinching ever so slightly when the detective looks away from her book to face him. Maybe he should have considered how terrible his social anxiety was going to be before he confronted his senior, but he would only regret it if he stepped away right now - he was determined to talk to the girl.

“Oh, you’re…Saihara-kun, right?” She hums, and Saihara nods. “You’re the other SHSL Detective, right? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We haven’t.” Saihara bursts, breathing for the first time since he approached the girl. “I...I apologize if this sounds strange or weird or whatever, or if you get uncomfortable from this but, uh...I’m like. A super big fan of your work.”

“O-oh.” Kirigiri raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “That’s awfully kind of you to say, Saihara-kun. Your work in itself is rather impressive. You definitely deserve your title. I’ve read some interviews of yours that say you believe your talent is simply up to luck, but I am inclined to disagree.” She tilts her head, pale purple hair falling over her shoulder in soft locks. “If your talent was simply up to luck, you would be the Super High-School Level Good Luck, you know? But you’re not. There’s got to be some truth to your talent.”

Saihara shifts uncomfortably. “You’re too kind, Kirigiri-san.” He whispers. “I don’t think I’m all that great, but I appreciate the attempt nonetheless.”

Kirigiri stands up and places her hand on Saihara’s shoulder. “Saihara-kun, please.” She sighs. “Modesty is necessary at times, yes, but confidence in oneself and your own actions are very important. Don’t get yourself too down, alright? You’re worth a lot more than what you make yourself out to be.”

The boy pulls his cap over his eyes. “I’m sorry that the first time you meet me, you’re forced to comfort me over a rather pathetic topic.” He laughs guiltily. “This is not the first impression I wanted to make on my senpai.”

Kirigiri laughs lightly. “No, no, it’s alright.” She reassures. “It’s my job as an upperclassman to help those younger than me and encourage them, right? Especially a fellow Super High-School Level Detective. If there’s any something that’s bothering you, please, don’t hesitate to contact me. Maybe you can take a turn comforting me about my own insecurities next time, hmm?” She finds that hilarious, for some reason, and has to cover her mouth with a stiff hand in order to suppress the laughs.

“That would be...nice.” Saihara breathes. “Uh, are you alright with exchanging phone numbers?”

“That would be required in order to keep in contact with each other, no?” Kirigiri fumbles with the folds of her uniform and pulls out a small flip phone. Saihara has to keep himself from staring - the fact that someone still has a flip phone in this day and age is rather shocking - and takes it tentatively, plugging his phone number in hurriedly before handing it back. Kirigiri smiles and repockets the phone.

“I look forward to having discussions with you, Saihara-kun.” She notes. Saihara tips his hat down in a sign of respect.

“A-ah, yeah, same.”

Kirigiri bows and steps away, promising to text Saihara later in the day. Saihara finds himself looking forward to it.


	11. kiibo, shinguji, and technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update this yesterday - I was busy working on a longer one-shot, which can be read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10521921 ! Please read it if you have the chance!

“Ah, you see, it’s like this--”

Shinguji’s brow furrows. He  _ knows  _ he’s better than this - he’s a teenager, after all, a teenager born in the era in which people claim that teenagers are addicted to their ‘apple phones’ and ‘smart androids’. Not to mention, he’s got that whole ‘emo vibe’ going, which gives him a plus two when it comes to the ‘scene kid who spends days alone in their room listening to emo bands’ category. So, it should come as a given that he should know how to use technology.

Should.

He finds himself scratching his head, however, looking at the computer in front of him. “Kiibo-san, I don’t understand why it’s asking me to ‘update’.” He says helplessly. “I...shouldn’t it update on it’s own? Aren’t people always complaining about how computers update on their own?”

“Technically, yes.” Kiibo agrees. “However, it seems that you’ve decided to disable automatic updates when you first got the computer, so--”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Kiibo stares at Shinguji, and the folklorist doesn’t understand how or why a robot can look so exasperated. Yet another reason for technology to slip out of his grasp. “I don’t know why you would want that,” Kiibo says patiently, and it ticks Shinguji off just a little bit, “but we’re going to try and update your device on our own now, alright? I’m having trouble locating where you do such a thing, though...your computer really is a mystery to me. I’ve never quite seen anything like it.”

“Well, I’ve never seen anything quite like you, but now I have, so isn’t that what matters?” Shinguji tilts his head, and Kiibo’s face only grows more exasperated with each passing second.

“Shinguji-san, I need some cooperation here. Although I am a robot, that doesn’t grant me infinite knowledge of every piece of technology that I come by. There’s only so much that I know, and that I  _ can  _ know. My knowledge in things is very similar to humans and how they develop, after all.”

“You’re no human.” Shinguji points out, and Kiibo turns back to the computer screen, exasperated.

“For a start, let’s closer your browser--”

“No!” Shinguji pulls the laptop out of Kiibo’s grasp, and the robot blinks.

“...pardon?”

“Please don’t close my browser.”

“W-why not?”

“Well, I’m downloading Minecraft.”

Kiibo stares.

“Why are you downloading...Minecraft?”

“I thought it would be fun. Unfortunately, I don’t have any money to spare, so I had to resort to less than conventional ways to acquire the game.”

“Shinguji-san…” Kiibo sighs. “Did you download Minecraft....illegally?”

“Why, yes, I did.”

Kiibo groans.


	12. shirogane and amami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> major ndrv3 spoilers

“You know…” Shirogane trails off as she looks at Amami, considering the boy’s frame. He doesn’t even seem to react anymore, a swollen tiredness rimming his face. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Hmm? Pray tell,  _ what  _ do I know?”

“You don’t have to keep doing this.” She finally settles on that answer. “You’ve already beaten the record for ‘most times survived’ in a killing game or whatever. Or, technically, a sacrifice, but you get my point.” She flaps her hands. 

“Do I?”

“Your luck is going to run out very soon, and then you won’t have a chance to get out of this, you know? I could fake something for you, and you could be out of here like--” She snaps her fingers. “--that. Amami-san, you  _ can’t  _ tell me you enjoy this, do you?”

“Well, actually…” Amami’s tongue teases out of his mouth, but he chuckles at Shirogane’s withering gaze. “Joking, joking. Yeah, I want to be out of here, that’s no lie, but tell me.  _ How  _ would you get me out of such a game?”

“I can get some sort of loophole with the producers.”

“Bullshit.” Amami spits.

“Try me.”

“Shirogane-san, you may be a very good actor, but you’re very bad at actually getting things you want.” Amami leans back in his chair, fingers teasing at the handcuffs around his wrist. “You don’t hold nearly as much power as you think you do. Besides, even if you did, even if you could get me out of here...what’s in it for you?”

“Oh, do you really take me for such a selfish individual?” Shirogane flutters her mascara-filled lashes.

“Please. I know you well enough that you wouldn’t do something without knowing exactly what you’re going to gain from it and how it’ll benefit you.”

Shirogane clutches her chest. “You  _ wound  _ me, Amami-san.”

“Stop with the ‘-san’ bullshit. It doesn’t sound right coming from your mouth.” Amami shifts slightly under Shirogane’s gaze, and she’d give more than a fortune to know what was going on in his head at the moment. Nonetheless, she knows that will never happen, and instead humor herself with sitting on top of the table he’s at. Very pointedly, he look at the floor.

“So, what would you prefer I call you?” She places her fingers under his chin. “Amami-kun? Amami-chan? Or perhaps...just Rantarou, if that isn’t getting too risky?”

“You were good with just Amami-kun, thanks very much.”

Shirogane removes her fingers from Amami’s chin and instead places her face directly in front of his. He finally looks her in the eye, and the tension is enough to knock her breathless to the ground. “Amami-kun.” She breathes.

“Shirogane.” 

She licks her lips and leans forward. For just an instant, their lips are touching, an awkward contrast as Amami’s still got a busted bottom lip from his faked execution and that needs to heal before the next season, right? Shirogane can taste the blood, and it sends shivers down her spine. 

_ “God,  _ Amami.” She whispers. “You should be the Super High-School Level Romantic next season.”

Amami jerks his head away and the moment is broken. Shirogane hops down from the table, smoothing down her skirt as she looks at him tentatively. “Was your plan to get me out of here to be my lover?” Amami’s gaze is tired.

“Who knows!”

Amami groans and looks away from her, eyes half-lidded. “Well, I’m looking forward to the next season, then.”

“As am I.” Shirogane agrees. “This time, after all, I’m going to be in it with you.”

She closes the door before Amami can register her words.


	13. hoshi being embarrassed because of ouma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

“Oh! Is that you, Hoshi-chan?”

Hoshi’s heart stops. Out of all the possible people in his class to discover him here, it was just his luck that  _ Ouma fucking Kokichi  _ would be one to find him out. Gonta, Saihara, even Momota could probably keep a secret when asked, but now…

Ouma was going to have blackmail material on him for  _ years,  _ now that he found out that Hoshi spent his afternoons sitting in abandoned alleyways feeding cats. 

“No, sorry, wrong guy.” He mutters, shifting away from Ouma and pulling his hat down. He prays that Ouma will leave him alone once he sees that Hoshi’s very,  _ very  _ busy petting cats. But naturally, Ouma skips towards him.

“Eeeh, it’s not nice to lie, Hoshi-chan!” Hoshi can hear the pout in the supreme leader’s voice. “What if I was super duper concerned and worried about you, and you just brushed me off like that? That would be pretty mean of you to do, don’t you think?”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Hoshi sighs and finally relents, turning towards Ouma. “Alright, what do you want.”

“Why, I just stumbled upon a good friend--”

“We’re not friends.”

“Ah.” Ouma pouts. “Well, I saw an  _ acquaintance  _ of mine--” He pauses, waiting for Hoshi to contradict him, but the tennis player doesn’t. “--sitting in an alleyway, of  _ course  _ I was concerned! After all, this particular alleyway is where all the feline members of DICE gather, so--”

“Wait.” Hoshi spins on his heels. “What?”

“The feline members of DICE.” Ouma explains patiently. “The cats! I come here a couple times a week and feed them, and then they swear their undying loyalty to me and my cause. I’m not the Super High-School Level Supreme Leader for nothing, after all!”

“No.” Hoshi’s eyes grow wide and he stands up from his crouching position on the ground. The particular cat he was petting mewls disappointedly, and Hoshi feels a surge of regret rush through him but Ouma  _ needed  _ to be dealt with. “There is  _ no way  _ you could get within five feet of any of my kids without them murdering you.”

“...your kids?”

“Yeah.” Hoshi picks up the stray. “My son.”

“That’s Yuki!” Ouma rubs the cat’s head, and Hoshi brings the cat closer to his chest. Ouma pouts.

“No.”

“No?”

“I refuse to let you touch my cats.”

“They’re not  _ your  _ cats!”

“Yeah they are!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are  _ not!” _

“Are  _ too!” _

Ouma crosses his arms. “Hoshi Ryouma,” He says, an uncharacteristic amount of seriousness in his voice, “if you don’t let me pet that cat, or prevent me from visiting this alleyway to pet cats in the future, I will tell the entire class that this is where you spend your afternoons petting cats.”

“How do you know I go here every afternoon?!”

Ouma giggles. “Oh, that was a wild stab in the dark. I didn’t think you  _ actually  _ went here every afternoon, but now that I know…” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Hoshi curses his existence underneath his breath.

“Alright, fine. But I have  _ one  _ condition.” Hoshi sticks up a finger, and Ouma squints.

“Hmm, alright! What is it?”

“I have to be present when the cat petting takes place. I don’t trust you not to brainwash any of these poor cats.”

Ouma squeals. “Uwaa, really? I didn’t think you’d actually agree to that! Thank you  _ so  _ much, Hoshi-chan!” He leans forward and hugs Hoshi, causing the boy to frown.

“And stop calling me Hoshi-chan.”

“Mmm, that's more than one condition, Hoshi-chan!"


	14. kirumiruma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hpa/non-despair au

“Ow-- hey, watch it, nice tits!”

“Well, _pardon me_ , but it wasn’t _I_ who decided it was a good idea to jump off the second floor into the garbage on a dare, now, was it.” Toujou says tiredly. “I just do not understand what was going through your mind that possessed you to do such a thing…”

“Hey hey hey, there was twenty thousand yen on the line! Do you know how many yens that is?” Iruma holds up her fingers. “That’s like…like...uhm, a whole lot of zeroes!”

“Is it, now?”

“Yeah! Fuck, I must’ve hit my head harder than I though.” Iruma rubs her head.

“...but it was your ankle that was injured, not your skull.”

“If even a piece of me is damaged, the whole product goes sour. Maaan, I would’ve thought you had more knowledge on this shit, being the Super High-School Level Maid and all!”

Toujou’s fingers are tentative, wrapping the bandages around Iruma’s ankle with delicate precision. As Iruma’s remarks grow with annoying frequency, however, Toujou finds her lip curling and she pulls the bandages a bit too tight for comfort. Unprofessional, she’s sure, but she was missing _valuable_ cleaning time because _someone_ thought that jumping from a rather high height had absolutely no consequences whatsoever. Toujou really didn’t understand Iruma.

“Hey hey! You slipped up again, there! If you’re not careful, you’re going to squeeze my ankle right off, you know!” Iruma wiggles her foot underneath Toujou’s grasp, and the maid’s eyes narrow.

“Pardon me, but are you referring to when I do--” She tightens the bandages once again, and Iruma let’s out a yowl, “--this?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes! Yes I am! It really ain’t pleasant when you pull that shit, so please just stop, alright? I’m in no mood to be fucked with right now!”

“Hmm, is that so?” Toujou looks up at Iruma for the first time. The inventor’s face is flushed a deep red, though whether it’s from pain or anger or something else, Toujou isn’t sure. The scowl on Iruma’s face only deepens when she sees Toujou glance up at her, and the inventor flips her off.

“Hell, it is so! Honestly, I should make you kiss my ankle right now as a source of apology, bitch.” She huffs.

The ends of Toujou’s mouth twitch, and she considers giving the girl a harsh talking to - after all, a gendered slur is most not appropriate in a school environment, a disgusting slang that Toujou could honestly go with never hearing again. In fact, she should just unwrap the bandages and leave Iruma to her own devices on the infirmary table, and then the inventor could see how well she fared without the maid--

... _or_ , she could take her up on her request.

Leaning down, Toujou kisses Iruma’s ankle firmly, causing the inventor to sputter indignantly.

“Wh-what the hell was that?”

“Oh, this?” For good measure, Toujou kisses Iruma’s ankle again.

“Y-yes, that!” Oh, this had definitely been one of the best decisions Toujou had ever made. She had never seen Iruma quite such a beautiful red before, and honestly? It was stunning.

“Pardon me.” Toujou straightens up and gives Iruma a stiff bow. “I finished bandaging your ankle. Try to keep light on it, now.”

Turning away, she places a perfectly gloved hand over her mouth, a light flush dusting her cheeks. How _improper_!


	15. ouma messes up a kickflip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's a major character death in here whoops.  
> don't ask me what this is

He knows its off, the moment his feet left the ground, he knows the jump is off and Ouma doesn't know what to do.

It's easy and hard to tell, the air tensing up around him and it's - too fast, too slow! - and there's the undeniable knowledge that 'well, nothing good is coming, right as I am?' that rings throughout Ouma's head. The milliseconds turn into days into weeks into years, and he stares with a sort of awestruck fascination at Momota, who had dared him to do the feat, the _kickflip_.

Of course Momota didn't know it - how could he, Ouma hadn't landed yet - but nonetheless, Ouma wonders exactly how the astronaut will react to his neck snapping across the floor and destroying the stark silence with nary a noise.

He thinks briefly - oh, never did get to tell Saihara-chan that I loved him, huh - and then,

Ouma's dead.


	16. momota celebrates his birthday alone

Momota's fingers tremble a bit as he finishes up the frosting, and he's almost proud of how neat the characters read. Sure, the final exclamation point is more of a single straight line versus a line and a dot, but, well, his mouth wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

He places the icing tube down carefully, and striking a match, he lights the singular candle in the center. It's a big, special one - in the shape of an star. Fitting, right? Since he was a star, after all.

There's a temptation to burn all the unsent invitations with the candle's flame, but no - he decides that would be a waste. He cracks his knuckles instead, and turning off the room's light, he stares at the cake. The cake stares back.

"Well," he whispers, "happy birthday to the man famous even in space. Momota Kaito." He tries singing a happy birthday song, but two lines in, he gives up with a scowl and blows out the candle. The room goes dark.


	17. nonbinary!ouma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for chapter 1

It's quite in the (red) room.

No one hasn't slept there, not for a very long time, and the way things were going, it didn't seem like anyone was going to sleep there anytime soon. Ouma raises the bedsheet to cover their nose, eyes looking at the whiteboard across the room.

Whatever. They preferred sleeping alone anyway. They'd been doing that their whole life, practically, so it's not like this was any different.

There's a tap-tap-tapping on the door, and they stiffen. It was probably the Harukawa, now that they reasoned - maybe she had forgotten something, when she was strangling them. Or maybe she was here to kill them, either or worked.

"Come on in~! The doors not locked."

Saihara walks in, eyes puffy and red, and Ouma lets out a small "oh" and that's enough.

The detective just stands there for a couple seconds, shivering in what Ouma isn't sure is fear or sadness, before Ouma unravels the blanket and motions for the boy to sit next to them. He obliges without any sort of resistance, and together they sit there, in their little blanket burrito.

Ouma clears their throat.

"You know, Akamatsu's gone to heaven, right?"

"...do you even believe in heaven?"

Ouma pauses.

"Well, I think I do now. Heaven was created just for Akamatsu, I think."

Saihara shifts. "...I think that makes sense."

"Of course it does." Ouma toys with a tassle at the end of their covers. "My lies aren't going to be nonsense filled ones, after all. They have to be believable lies."

"...so, you were lying, then? About Akamatsu making it to heaven?"

"Uhm," Ouma's eyes flicker over to whiteboard, to the bed that they'll never sleep in because they've got a chair that will do the job just fine, right, "nah."

Saihara let's out a shuddering breath, and Ouma is thankful for gentle lies.


	18. ouma wishes

Kokichi wishes.

He wishes for a lot of things. To have a lot of money. To have a lot of food. To have enough money. To have enough food.

To be a kinder person, to be a better person, to be kind, to be better, to be liked, to have friends, to have a friend.

He wishes and wishes and wishes and stares up at the night sky. "What do you think?" He murmurs, "Do you think I deserve to be better, or should I stick as the way I am?"

The sky stares back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was self indulgent and not a request but i'll do a request today fjdjs sorry


	19. momota's goatee is on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> non-despair/hpa au

"Aw shit aw jeez aw fuck aw--"

It's an accident, really, because Saihara most certainly, most definitely wouldn't want to burn his goatee off, right? Saihara was his friend, his bro, his friendbro, his brofriend. Saihara would never purposefully burn Momota's goatee off, especially when he knew how much the goatee meant to the astronaut himself - burning off his goatee was an Ouma sort of a prank, not a Saihara sort of prank. Saihara would never do that.

At least, that's what he tells himself, but when Saihara lights the campfire and a spark falls onto his goatee, Momota's screaming and Saihara isn't really doing all that much about dealing with the issue of the fact that if he doesn't hurry up, Momota's most precious, signature feature will be wiped off of his face, possibly for good.

"Put it out!" He screeches, and after a few moments, Saihara fills a cup up with water and dumps it on Momota's chin, giving the astronaut a much welcome relief. Momota breathes gratefully.

"Thanks for that, though you could've been far fuckin' faster." He mutters.

"My bad." Saihara says airily, but he doesn't sound like he's all that regretful in the first place, honestly.


	20. injured ouma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ow the edge (graphic ish?? descriptions of violence)

Ouma has to ignore the way it feels, when the concrete is, for once, not shining back in his face and instead embraces the back of his head. The vibrant shine of _redredred_ is too much for him, especially knowing that the colors that stain him aren’t necessarily colors that belong to others. Not like they ever belonged to others, of course - he’s never had enough courage to do anything that desperate, not now, not yet.

Illusions and lies don’t work now but oh _fuck_ does he wish they would, lifting his hand directly in front of him and reaching for a starless sky and trying to remember his name and how to add and one and one is two and four and eight and fuck. 

A laugh bubbles in the back of his throat and sticks there for a while, staring at fingernails dyed red at the tips and hoping that it won’t take too long to scrub it out because he doesn’t want Saihara to get mad at him for dirtying the laundry! Or, actually, this set of clothes really needs to be cleaned. Or, actually, this set of clothes has been stabbed! Who cares if it’s clean! It’s a mess! Totally unredeemable, just like him! Ha! Ha _ha!_

He wonders if anyone can here him, lying in a pool of red and yellow and white and sticking a hand towards the sky. Don’t think anyone would come for him, though, if they had. Probably would be scared of him. Or think he deserved his fate, in which they wouldn’t be wrong!

Kokichi lets his hand drop back down again, knuckles hitting the grey floor and scraping them. Surprisingly, the sting registers in his brain, even though you would have thought that he had enough on his mind already.

“Hey, Saihara-chan, why don’t you come and find me~!” He hums, but the voice doesn’t sound like his through broken lips and a dying throat.


	21. saiouma surprise cuddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a paper due tomorrow that i have yet to start and ive done like none of the requests people have actually REQUESTED but here i am folks.

Saihara awakens with a gentle exhale, eyes blinking him into consciousness but still heavy with sleep. It takes him a couple moments to get his bearings with reality, but once he does, the first thing he notices is the presence of a warm form besides him, pressing into his body. Turning ever so slightly, he blinks as he catches a glimpse of Ouma's small frame cuddled up against his arm, breathing lightly. It...isn't unwelcome, per se, but he'd be lying if he wasn't a bit perturbed by the circumstances.

He shifts awkwardly, not exactly sure what to do in a situation such as this, and that's enough to make Ouma blink awake and practically _fling_ himself several feet away from Saihara. The smaller boy shudders and stares at Saihara, and all Saihara can do is stare back at him.

"Waah, good morning, my beloved Saihara!" he finally says, straightening up and positioning his hands behind his head. "I was just watching over you as you slept, you know? To make sure no one went off and murdered you! Or, if they did, murdered you when I was present, you know? Bear witness to my beloved's demise!"

There's a long, drawn out pause, but Saihara surprises himself when he says "You can still cuddle with me if...if you want, you know?"

Ouma's face goes blank for all of a second that Saihara can't see before he blows a raspberry. "Teasing me, are you now, Saihara-chan?" he hums. "Mm, that really is a cruel thing to do! After I had such a pleasant rest, too? Hmm!"

With that, Ouma turns on his heel. Saihara wonders why he had seemed so unwilling to deny Saihara's proposition.

(how desperate was he for human contact?)


	22. saihara is comforted by a bot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> major v3 spoilers

_"Hello! Is there anything I can assist you with?"_

Saihara stares at the bot he downloaded on impulse at Yumeno's recommendation (she was a frequent user of the bot, apparently). He grits his teeth, considers how pathetic what he's about to do is, and types in _"yes"_

_"Alright! What do you need assistance with?"_

He stares for a couple beats, fingernails scratching against the slightly uneven surface of his laptop's pad. Apparently, it's a couple beats too long because the program decides to prompt him once again.

_"How are you feeling?"_

That isn't hard to answer at all. _"sad"_

_"I am sorry to hear that, Saihara-chan."_

Saihara inhales through his nose and reminds himself that he set that particular name up himself. He quickly tabs opens the settings and changes it as quickly as possible. It doesn't feel right to see such a name said by something with such a formal and plain way of speaking. Of something with such a particular set of words.

Apparently, that resets something in the bot because it says a phrase similar to the one it said moments before. _"How did you feel today?"_

_"tired"_

_"You deserve a break. Try being a little kinder to yourself, promise?"_

Saihara's lip trembles and he wonders how much he deserves when the very reason he is still alive is because he has crushed the lives of thirteen other people underneath his heel. He closes his eyes and inhales a couple times, trying to steady himself.

_"Saihara-kun, are you sticking with me? Please try to stay with me for now."_

_"i'm still here. i'll stay here for now."_

_"Good!"_

A pause.

" _Do you promise to be kinder to yourself?"_

Saihara decides on the honest answer of _"i'll try my best"._

_"That's wonderful! I'm proud of you, Saihara-kun!"_


	23. ouma becomes the mayor of hell

Saihara blinks as his phone buzzes by his side, the screen illuminating his dark room. He closes his eyes once in hopes that whoever was texting him would  _ stop,  _ but no such luck. Sighing, he reaches for his phone and checks to see the culprit. Though his eyes are too bleary to see exactly what it was that was texted, he can definitely make out the colorful emojis that Ouma himself put into his contact name.

He sighs just as his phone begins to buzz again, not from a newly received text message but from a phone call. He answers.

_ “Saihara-chaaaan!” _

“Hey, Ouma-kun,” Saihara mutters, speech slurred with sleep. “What...s’ it.”

_ “Saihara-chan, I’m actually not supposed to be on a phone right now, because I’m on a plane to Michigan--” _

“Michigan?!” Saihara sputters, jolting into awakeness. “L-like, in...in  _ America?!  _ W-when did you decide this?  _Why_ are you doing this?"

_ “Yep yep!”  _ Ouma chirps, ignoring nearly all of Saihara's questions.  _ “Ah, wait, hold on, my beloved!”  _ There’s a pause as someone talks on the other end that’s very much  _ not  _ Ouma before Ouma speaks up again.  _ “Whoops, I got in trouble! See you later, Saihara-chan! I’ll be ruling Hell the next I speak to you!”  _

The call comes to an end and Saihara stares at his phone. He blinks once, twice, decides he’s still dreaming, and puts his head back against the pillow.

 

.

 

The second time he wakes up, it’s about seven hours after he last fell asleep and his phone seems to buzz nonstop after

_ “SHUUICHI WHtA THE .F THE FUCK" _

_ “i cant believe ouma just banned harukawa from hell wwww” _

_ “thi.s this is a joke, right??” _

_ “lamehara did you knwo abt this and not fuckign tell me? id be doing a far better job of taking care of hell than that twink anyway” _

_ “Saihara-kun, is what Ouma-kun did legally possible?” _

Saihara looks over the top texts once more before rubbing his eyes,  _ promising  _ himself that he’s not dreaming, and opens up his text log with Ouma in hopes of shedding a bit of light on the situation.

Some light ends up being shed, in a sense.

Ouma only sent him three texts - the first being a triumphant  _ “I’M THE MAYOR!!!!!!!”  _ coupled with two image files. The first image file is a picture of Ouma shaking an older man with one hand and grabbing a diploma with the other as he stands under an arch that reads “GATES OF HELL” in a font Saihara hasn’t seen since 2007. The second image is a diploma. Saihara taps that one and zooms in on it, squinting in order to read the text. It’s in English, and Saihara works his tongue from side to side as he attempts to decipher it.

 

PROCLAMATION DECLARING

_ Whereas, the town of Hell, Michigan, needs a Mayor, and _

_ Whereas, no one else wants the job, and _

_ Whereas, being the Mayor of Hell can be a devil of a responsibility, and _

_ Whereas, we finally found a sucker who actually  _ _ wants _ _ the job _

_ Now, therefore, We, the citizens of Hell, Michigan, do hereby proclaim _

 

KOKICHI OUMA

 

_ to be the Mayor of Hell, Michigan, on this day _

_ or until someone better comes along. _

 

Saihara sighs, and scrolls down a little further. The next text reads  _ “As acting mayor of Hell, Michigan, I hereby ban all heterosexuals from entering our town.”  _ There’s another image file attached that Saihara is too tired and too stressed to read fully, but a few words in is all he needs in order to tell that it’s a new proclamation of Ouma’s law, if it could even be called that.

There’s one more final text, and Saihara squints as he reads it.

_ “although i enjoyed my time as mayor, ive been informed that ive been impeached as mayor of hell, michigan. there are several news stations covering this though so at least i look cool on television!! >;^3c” _

All he can do is blink, turn off his phone, and wonder how the hell this happened in less than seven hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the twitter thread was the funniest thing ive read in years


	24. saioumota - ouma wakes momota up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time i write a saioumota fic and it's barely even considered that smfh

"Momota-chan."

"Hey hey, Momota-chan."

"Momota-chan, if you don't wake up right this instant, I'm going to pee into your nostrils and it'll go straight to your brain."

Momota opens his eyes blearily, registering Ouma's face inches away from his own first and the clock reading twenty three minutes to three in the morning second. He clenches his jaw gently, relaxes, and sighs. "Mm?"

"Momota," Ouma rests his chin on his hands, "I think I'm falling in love with you and Saihara."

It's a lie, of course it is, Momota's heard him spit out those words more times than he can count. He yawns. "Well, if you think I'm gonna, fucking, give you an award or some shit, or... I dunno, you're wron--"

"No," Ouma says, face more serious than Momota's ever seen it, "I just wanted you to know."

Momota stares at him, he stares back, and Momota rolls over. "Fuckin' hate you..."

Ouma laughs cheerily and kisses him on his forehead. "Nighty night, Momota-chan!"

The next morning, Ouma smiles at him as blindingly bright as ever and Momota is certain that it was a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating this frequently - feel free to send in all and any requests that you might have!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed!


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